


Overture

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: K: Interludes [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Fushimi is like a prickly hedgehog, Gen, Intel Division is like eager little minions, Misaki is a good cook, Munakata is thoughtfully observant, Post-ROK, Reality ensues regarding injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-10 09:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20526026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: Follows "Prelude" - Fushimi deals with his injury/injuries; Munakata takes stock of the new world order post-Kings. A new normal returns to Sceptre 4.Rated T for Misaki's potty mouth.





	1. Chapter 1

Fushimi was dimly aware of something cool pressed against his forehead as he blearily opened his eyes. He lifted an absent hand from deep inside his covers and felt a damp towel covering his forehead. When had he...? He lifted the damp cloth away and set it to the side before touching his own cheeks with the back of his hand. They felt warm, a little too warm. Combined with the cotton like feeling in his mouth as well as how much it suddenly hurt to swallow, Fushimi realized he was running a fever. He grimaced and shifted under the covers, only to wince as the wound on his right leg felt extraordinarily sensitive. Reaching down with his right hand, he touched the bandages that covered the wound and could feel a tender warmth emanating from it. Infected then.

That explained the fever.

But it did not explain the towel on his forehead. He groggily pushed himself up, the blankets sliding away from his body to pool over his legs. The rough feeling of a towel on his back underneath his nightshirt made him absently reach over and touch it. It felt damp, more than likely soaking up all of the feverish sweat from the infection he had.

He hung his head, cradling it in a hand. He felt a little faint and like someone had run a few trucks over him. The sound of his door opening made him glance up to see the blurry form of what could have passed for a beanie-covered red hair. As the person got closer, he resolved into Misaki's familiar stupidly-smiling form.

“Hey! You're awake!” Misaki set down a tray of something that smelled rather good. “Had me worried there for a while.”

Fushimi reached for his glasses by the side of his tatami and put them on. “Misaki,” he swallowed, grimacing, “what are you doing here?”

“Taking care of you, obviously,” Misaki had what Fushimi long recognized as his shit-eating grin.

“Why?” he asked, baffled.

“What do you mean why?” His friend looked confused. “Well...” he gestured towards the blankets and everything around him. “Look at you. You're obviously sick.”

“But why?” Fushimi asked again. He did not get why Misaki would be here. In fact, it was even more confusing as to his friend's behavior towards him. It was almost as if three years of resentment, lost time and fights seemed forgotten judging by how cheerful Misaki looked.

“Wha...?” his friend looked confused. “Did you forget-”

“Why are _you_ here?” Fushimi demanded.

The smile slipped just a fraction from Misaki's face before he replaced it with an even wider one that annoyed Fushimi. “Taking care of you!”

“Tch,” Fushimi clucked his tongue in annoyance, seeing that he was probably not going to get a straight answer. He briefly considered needling Misaki a bit to really find out the reason, but feeling sick as it was, he really did not want to expend any more than he was already doing in just sitting up. However, he did not miss the brief look of surprise that flitted across his friend's face before he masked it again with a wide smile and gentle pushed the tray towards him.

“You feeling up for food?” Misaki asked. “I made egg porridge. It's when you beat two or three eggs together, put two tablespoons of vinegar in it along with some salt and finish off with a cup of water all mixed together. Then steam it for a good twenty minutes. It's got a nice mild flavor that you always liked.” He lifted the cover to the bowl and the yellowy dish was revealed.

As much as Fushimi really did not want to move, the smell was rather enticing and his stomach was twisting in hunger. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a bottle of pills marked as antibiotics and another that was an apparent fever reducer. They both were half-empty.

“You probably don't remember, but your medic gave you antibiotic pills. Seems like you left it in the truck. You're supposed to take one every six hours until the five days worth are gone.”

That explained the twisting sensation in his stomach. He was familiar with the effects of antibiotic pills and the lack of food. He also did not remember the medic leaving him a bottle of pills, but then again, he was more concerned with other things than taking some medication. He also oddly did not remember waking every six hours to take the medication. It bothered him...

Still, Fushimi could not help but stare at the egg porridge. His stomach twisted rather unhappily again and he gave up on fighting it. He gingerly scooted towards the tray and picked up the spoon next to the bowl. Dipping it into the spongy-looking egg porridge, he scooped up a small mouthful. The steam rising from it fogged his glasses, but he tried it and to his pleasant surprise, it did taste as mild as Misaki claimed. In fact, it tasted rather good. The hint of sourness and salty flavor from just the salt and vinegar placed into it was not overwhelming. He ate another scoop followed by another and then another-

“Oy...take it easy Saru. You've been in and out for the last forty-two hours...”

Fushimi stared, the food suddenly forgotten.  _Forty-two hours?!_ But that meant he had to report back to work in six hours- Something must have shown on his face as Misaki tossed him his PDA. He fumbled as he caught it.

“Go check your texts,” was all Misaki said.

Fushimi saw that there was only one text message to him in the last forty-two hours he slept. It was from Lieutenant Awashima. The message was succinct: his injury leave was extended another day, bringing his total to seventy-two hours. Apparently it had a read-receipt attached to it as the message was suddenly updated to state in no certain terms was he to even think of disobeying the order as it came straight from Munakata.

Fushimi sighed inwardly and darkened the screen. Message received. He set his phone down and glanced at Misaki. “Never figured you to join Sceptre 4,” he drawled quietly, picking at the egg porridge again, but this time he forced himself to slowly eat it instead of shoveling it all into his mouth.

Misaki snorted and looked away, offended. “I didn't join. In fact, it was _your_ king who approached _me _and asked me to check on you and bring you your stupid pills.”

“Uh-huh.”

“W-What, it's not like I stayed or anything,” Misaki back-pedaled. “Just saw you lying there like a miserable wreck of a human being that you are. Who the fuck wouldn't take pity.”

Fushimi only glanced up at Misaki through his sweat-matted bangs. He knew full well who would do such a thing. And it seemed his unspoken comment was remembered by his friend who spluttered some more before crossing his arms across his chest.

“Well, fine, don't ask any more favors. I was just leaving, that's all.” Misaki suddenly stood up and hurried out the door, closing it behind him. After a few seconds he suddenly popped his head back in. “Take your medication, you're at the six hour mark.” He closed the door quickly again before Fushimi heard the sounds of his friend running down the stairs and the front door open and slam close.

Fushimi sighed, picking at the edges of the bowl where the egg porridge had stuck to it. The bowl was half empty and his stomach was protesting anymore food. Pushing the tray away, he reached out to the glass of water he kept by his bed and drank from it. He did feel a little better, even with the fever still running its course in him. He really needed to use the bathroom now that he was more awake. The dizziness and weak feeling still lingered, but Fushimi tested out the strength of his leg as he gingerly pushed himself to his knees. His leg still hurt, but he managed to stand up and hobble over to the bathroom.

He finished his business quickly and proceeded to check on the bandage around his leg. The gauze that was originally wrapped around it had been taken off. He peeled part of the tape back. In fact, it looked like someone had re-dressed his leg with new gauze and anti-bacterial ointment. He pressed the tape back onto his leg and hobbled back to bed. That was when he noticed there was a pair of crutches leaning against the wall. He did not know when that had appeared, but it was clear that he was going to have to use it even when he returned to Sceptre 4.

Fushimi sat down heavily, staring at nothing in particular for a few minutes. He supposed he should take the medication given and reluctantly opened the bottle of antibiotic pills. He downed one with a glass of water before refilling the glass with a pitcher that was full of water. He could not remember when the pitcher appeared, only that it was right next to his bed. The fact that he could not remember what happened since he had arrived at his apartment until now worried him. Yet, a small part of him – that he would never admit out loud – was glad that it was Misaki who had apparently watched over him during that time.

The other part of him was very annoyed now that Misaki had found his safe house. He remembered being rather put out that his King had discovered this safe house even if it was undisclosed and unregistered in his Sceptre 4 files. He had specifically rented this place in case Sceptre 4 was a bust and he could not find anywhere else to live. He normally stayed in the Sceptre 4 dorms, a rare single room given to him per his demand once he deemed his initial roommate too annoying to live with.

Fushimi settled back into his blankets, internally grumbling at a very nosy Misaki and Blue King even as a sleepy contentment rose up inside him. He barely remembered to set a six hour timer on his PDA as he set his glasses to the side again. He fell asleep even before he retracted his hand back into his blankets. His last muzzy thought was that the egg porridge was rather good – he would have to see if Misaki could make more.


	2. Chapter 2

Munakata looked up as a light sounding ping echoed from Awashima's PDA. He had been reading the preliminary reports from the Research Division about the Special Police Force's Weismann levels among other things.

“Ah, Fushimi-kun finally read the text. He must be more awake now,” Awashima sounded pleased before she quickly texted out a reply with a satisfied smile.

“Forty-two hours then,” Munakata murmured. “Please inform Research Division if you will.”

Awashima nodded. Her fingers flew over her tablet as she sent off a quick email to Research Division. “There's no denying it then. Healing will be a factor we must consider for future plans."

“How are the others?” Munakata asked.

Awashima made a humming noise as she flipped through her tablet. “There's a few variances with the healing abilities in relation to the patients, but it seems like minor bruising, scrapes and cuts have about thirty-three percent increase in the time it takes to heal than what was established as baseline.”

“Unfortunately we cannot establish such a baseline for Fushimi-kun at the moment. Not until he returns,” he folded his hands together and set his chin on them in thought.

“You won't extend his leave?” Awashima raised an eyebrow.

“Would you?” he countered with a soft smile that was hidden by his hands.

His lieutenant seemed to consider the question before shaking her head once. “I see your point.”

“Yet you doubt,” he prodded.

“Fushimi-kun would not like to be pitied,” Awashima murmured. “And there are those here that would view his return in such a way.”

“I believe he has the wherewithal to quell any sort of thought from the others,” Munakata replied with a wider smile. He knew from long experience the withering looks his third-in-command was well versed in. It was almost like a language of sorts and it kept Munakata always guessing and amused by trying to figure out what sort of events or thoughts his blunt officer had to trigger such variance in glares. He had never known such a look could be so expressive.

“I worry more for his mental health,” Awashima murmured.

Munakata tilted his head a little to invite her to speak further. Her insights were always wrapped around respect and deference, but many times they were towards him. When it came to the others, they were acutely observant.

She sighed. “You know very well that I respect whatever reasons you have for accepting Fushimi from HOMRA. However, the analysis of his reasons for joining Sceptre 4 has always been two motivating factors – a fixation on HOMRA's vanguard Yata Misaki and to have power enough to make his own destiny.”

“Destiny seems rather...ominous, Awashima-kun,” he pointed out.

“Nonetheless, I worry what these events would have on Fushimi's mental state,” Awashima frowned. “He has gained three factions worth of powers. Unprecedented in the known history of the Slate's existence. Even Adolf K. Weismann did not make note of such a thing happening. Two factions worth of power have been observed in individuals lucky enough to survive clan dissolution and so forth, especially the two that served the Seventh and Colorless King, but no one with three powers.”

“What are you suggesting?” Munakata kept his own counsel on what Fushimi had told him during his time in the heart of the Green Clan.

“The loss of power from a King is a delicate matter in the first place. Previous clansmen who survive either have diminished powers or have their powers renewed when adopted by a new King. Those who have diminished powers may seek new clans or operate with registration as a Strain and class level before seeking employment elsewhere.” Munakata noted that she specifically avoided mentioning the Minato twins, but their fate hung in the air like a bad omen.

“We have the same procedures here for our personnel too,” Munakata replied. “In fact, this brings up the point where we will have to update our databases to include myself, the Third and Red King Anna as possible non-combatant post-Strain types.”

“Post-Strain?”

“We have lost our powers,” Munakata lifted a gloved hand and flexed it gently as he stared at the threads absently. “But we still technically now lead groups of Strains.”

“S-Sir...” Awashima's eyebrows knitted into a disconcerting frown. It bothered her terribly to be referred to as a Strain when she was a proud Blue Clansmen. But the facts were facts and Munakata never hesitated to shy away from them. At the same time, he also knew she would never breathe a word of such statements to anyone – she understood the situation now, especially with recent events.

“And I suspect your worry about Fushimi-kun's mental state comes from this?” he asked.

“Y-Yes.”

“Fushimi-kun was and is always an interesting enigma, Awashima-kun,” he started conversationally as he folded his hands together, lacing his fingers and absently tapping his thumbs against each other. “One would indeed find it fascinating to see how his views of power, enough power to 'create his own destiny' you say, would be in this diminished world. He technically wields three powers' clans. But one belonged to the previous Third and Red King, Suoh Mikoto, and he was never formally re-adopted by the current Red King. The other, is the Fifth and Green King Hisue Nagare. He was just killed days ago and it would be fascinating to see how the JUNGLE network survives as a whole.”

“Sir,” Awashima tapped something on her tablet, “based on our previous encounters with the Red Clan, perhaps it would be prudent to say that the weaker members of the clan would have their powers taken away?”

“But only if a King could do such a thing,” Munakata shook his head. “We have members of Sceptre 4, who are not of the Special Police Force that I have adopted and work for us. They are both clansmen of previous Blue Kings, but also those who serve in a support capacity. In a way, their services to Sceptre 4 have allowed them to use a bit of the Blue Clan's powers – if not passively.”

“Sir?”

“Their durability and ability to heal,” Munakata tapped his thumbs together absently. “You have said so yourself that there has been an increase in the time it takes members of the Special Police Force to heal from their injuries. What of to say of the support teams? Would that power disappear completely given time or would stay diminished as in the case of the lack of a King's resonance?”

“Sir, do you mean to say that the destruction of the Dresden Slate would mean all would lose their powers if given enough time?”

Munakata looked at her. “What did the research materials the Red Clansman strategist gave to you say?”

“Nothing terribly concrete,” Awashima pursed her lips, disappointed. She huffed before straightening. “Sir, with your permission, I'd like to seek out the Silver Clansmen at the high school island. I will ascertain the location of the Silver King from them as well as endeavor to find more insight into this concern.”

“Granted,” Munakata smiled and set his palms down on the table. He had no doubt that a certain Red Clansman strategist would be thinking along the same lines too. Perhaps there was merit to continuing the Coffee Table Alliance. But he would have to personally seek out the Red King first before such a thing could happen.


	3. Chapter 3

Fushimi should have known that Zenjo the Ogre would be the driver waiting for him as made his return to work. He had received a text only an hour before he was due saying that a driver would pick him up and deliver him to the Sceptre 4 dorms. The wording was specific enough that Fushimi was able to see Munakata's hand in Awashima's texts. No one, save for three others – if Misaki had not babbled to HOMRA – the location of the apartment he kept as his safe house. He would be able to easily come up with an excuse for the lack of his presence in the dorms. But it seemed this was Munakata's way of saying that his brief 'vacation' was over and he was expected to return to the official ranks of Sceptre 4.

He still felt a little weak, but the infectious swelling of his leg was almost all gone thanks to the consistent rounds of antibiotics he had been taking. Along with the almost uninterrupted rest he had received for the last three days and each clansman's natural healing and durability they received when they pledged themselves to a King, he considered himself doing well.

The crutches were quite unwieldy, but Fushimi would be a fool to not use them. Thankfully, the car ride to Sceptre 4's base was short and Zenjo was mercifully silent. He did catch the sidelong glances the man threw at him, but ignored it. Whatever Zenjo's problem was with him, the man would have to deal with it on his own. True to form, instead of pulling up to the main offices, the Ogre stopped in front of the dorms. Fushimi hobbled out, taking the crutches, and a small satchel with the medication, additional bandages, his PDA and small pillow he had been using to elevate his leg at night.

His shift was early enough that there were barely any personnel wandering around the campus. Fushimi made his way up to the dorms to drop off the pillow and bandages before changing into a fresh new uniform. He had worn the borrowed old one seeing that he didn't have any of his uniforms at his apartment. Feeling a little better, he stuck the rest of the antibiotics into one of his pockets. Four knives disappeared into the holsters that ran down his wrists. His personal armory, located under his lofted bed, was in a rather poor state.

When he had gone undercover, he knew he would have only one chance to enact his plan and Sceptre 4's actual armory was the last place he wanted to go to. He had ransacked his own dorm, taking the extra rolls of cash and knives that he had squirreled away from the armory to supplement his own collection. He had then headed to the prison cells and used his one chance and freed Hirasaka Douhan.

Fushimi clicked his tongue in annoyance. He would have to either buy new knives or start making them disappear from the armory in order to keep his own collection healthy and robust. He pushed himself back up and adjusted the jacket of his uniform before heading out of the dorms. He was still getting used to walking on the crutches, but he slowly made his way down to the bottom floor, opting to take the stairs instead of the more convenient elevator.

He pulled his PDA out – he was going to be late reporting to Munakata's office. But it took him about twelve minutes to go down the stairs. His leg twinged in pain, the torn muscles still knitting themselves back together, but Fushimi ignored it. By his own estimates and how he was feeling, he could probably start physical exercise on the leg in a few days. The prudent thing was to go get a formal diagnosis and rehabilitation plan from the medics, but Fushimi detested doctors.

It took him another ten minutes to walk from the dorms to the main building. He tagged in. “Fushimi-san, welcome back,” one of the security guards said brightly.

Fushimi ignored the guard as he stared for a second at the grand stairs that swept up to the various offices and rooms that Sceptre 4 inhabited. He walked slowly towards the more convenient elevator that would take him up to the proper floors. Even he was not so suicidal to take that many steps considering he had a tougher time going _up_ stairs than down them.

The elevator took him up in short order and he glanced at his PDA. He was nearing the half hour mark. Exiting the elevator, he hobbled past one of the cleaning staff that had been dusting some of the pictures that hung on the wall.

“Fushimi-san! Welcome back!” The older woman bowed her head slightly and he returned the bow with a small nod of his head.

“Good morning Ayame-san,” he replied quietly. He made it a point to acknowledge the cleaning staff when it seemed everyone else deftly avoided them. They reminded him of the maids that he had grown up with. The various maids that both cleaned the house and attempted to occasionally care for him – up until a certain man drove them away. Each one of them – the exception of one that had been a part of a thieving ring – was nice, but none lasted long. They were all good at their jobs and he appreciated the ones that tried to cook him meals or leave him with food whenever no one was home – which was more often than not.

“The Captain's in his office, taking his morning tea. He's half-way through a puzzle that looks like it's variety of gems. Akiyama-san is in the conference room, on break. He seems to be waiting to return to the field as he hasn't discarded his weaponry. Benzai-san is also resting in the conference room, though I believe he may be sleeping. I believe they have been here before I came on shift. Everyone else has not arrived yet.”

Fushimi acknowledged her words with a brief nod of his head. He would have to make sure she received a small compensation later in the evening when she returned for her shift. It was also the other reason why he acknowledged the cleaning staff. They were damn good sources of information and the division he came from and was still technically a part of – Intelligence – well, who was to say that there were both external and internal ways of gathering information.

Most members of the Special Police Force came with various backgrounds. Hidaka briefly served in Research Division before being recruited to serve under Munakata's direct command. Akiyama was former JGSDF, ironically, the Military Intelligence Command branch. Fushimi even occasionally used Akiyama's former contacts in the military to ensure his own intelligence was supplemented and the fourth-in-command of Sceptre 4 was more than willing to provide such needed help. Of all of the members of the Special Police Force, Fushimi supposed the Akiyama was probably the only one he could somewhat reasonably tolerate – not counting the lieutenant and captain.

He made his way towards the captain's office, taking care to move quietly past the door that led to the conference room. It also served as Sceptre 4's break room, with plush furniture that dotted the sides of the room. The care in his movements was definitely not for the sleeping Benzai; it was more that he did not want to encounter him or Akiyama at the moment. Fushimi preferred to return to work quietly and get started on all of the tasks that he needed to do – as well as the backlog of reports that more than likely piled up in his month-long absence.

He arrived without further incident and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Munakata's voice was muffled.

Fushimi pushed the door open before hobbling in. “Sir,” he leaned against the crutches as he closed the door behind him.

True to Ayame's words, Munakata was sitting in _seiza_ sipping his morning tea. A quick glance at his desk showed the half-formed puzzle that had a lot of pictures of gems on it. It looked quite complex. To Fushimi, it meant the captain had deep and troubling thoughts.

“Ah, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata opened his eyes, seemingly meditating over his tea as he set the cup down, “you're late.”

“You could have sent the Ogre earlier,” Fushimi replied. “One hour before I was to arrive makes the timing suspect considering you would know how long it takes to get from my apartment to the dorms.”

Munakata seemingly ignored his comment and took another small sip of his tea. “Would you like to sit?” He gestured towards the other seating pillow opposite himself on the tatami.

“I am fine here,” Fushimi declined, more by rote than actual declination. The perfunctory nod he received in return from the captain also confirmed that it was rather by rote – considering they both knew about his leg injury and the inability to sit in _seiza _even if he wanted to.

“Now that you are here, I expect a full report of your month-long activities with JUNGLE. This will also include your after-action report.”

“Done,” Fushimi pulled out his PDA, juggling against his crutches, and hit the send button. The report had been written the second time he had woken up after Misaki had left; if only to occupy his attention and keep himself awake instead of constantly sleeping.

Munakata merely nodded at the receipt of his report as his own PDA and computer pinged. He did not pull it out to look at it, per his morning ritual, but Fushimi knew it would be looked at later. “Will you need to question Hirasaka Douhan?” he asked instead.

“Not at the moment,” Fushimi replied. “Releasing her to find the whereabouts of the other J-rank members?”

“Yes,” Munakata replied. “It seems they have eluded our net rather effectively. Even freezing the holdings of the JUNGLE Corporation has not yielded any whereabouts of its CEO.”

“I will start a comprehensive search of the party guests that were at JUNGLE's last party,” Fushimi was glad to do some independent analysis aside from the usual ones he was probably going to do once he got caught up on the reports.

“Please do,” the captain took another sip of his tea, closing his eyes as he seemingly savored the taste. “Akiyama-san has all of the details regarding the U-rank members and the excavation of the Green Clan's base of operations.”

“Sir,” Fushimi made to leave, sensing the dismissal before the captain spoke up, opening his eyes.

“Awashima-kun is currently heading an inquiry into the Silver Clan's knowledge about the Slate.”

Fushimi merely nodded once. They were now in uncharted territory regarding the destruction of the Slate. He could hear the unspoken command that he would have to report to the Research Division about his current...lack of powers, so to speak. However, as he briefly studied his captain, he noted that Munakata seemed a little tense. His face was its usual impassive mask, but there was some tension in the man's shoulders.

“If we all lose our powers, maybe the world will be for the better,” he murmured. “Hisue Nagare had a good idea, making everyone equal.”

“Oh?”

“You survive the world under your own power.”

“And if you lose that?”

“Then more the fool to you for not realizing it in the first place,” Fushimi countered with a click of his tongue. “We all take on power only to realize somewhere along the line, it's not infinite. There will always be that challenger, always be that person there to be better than you.”

There was a quiet snort from Munakata. Fushimi decided he was done with his...talk with the captain. “If there is nothing else?” he prompted.

“No, thank you,” Munakata replied and Fushimi left, closing the door behind him.

He clicked his tongue irritably once again before slowly walking towards the conference room. Who was he to pull his captain out of a depressive funk when Munakata should have realized that there was some point he _was_ going to lose his power – if not his life if a Damocles Down truly happened. If the captain was depressed because he had _survived_ his Damocles Down then he truly deserved to throw himself off the highest point. No one like that should be in their mind wielding the power of a King. Fushimi was rather annoyed.

He curled a hand into a fist as he tried to banish his sudden surge of anger. Who was the captain to complain about the lack of power? There was no soothing surge of Blue that ran through his veins. Nor did his explosive anger fuel the remnant Red in him. Forget the Green – he could not feel any single ounce of stab of manipulative lighting seizing his muscles since he had achieved J-rank. All he felt was...

Fushimi slammed that particular thought and feeling into a very small corner of his mind at the same time he slammed the door open to the conference room.

Benzai immediately woke up with a shout, the mad scramble of tangled blankets making him fall to the ground. Akiyama looked up, startled and half way out of his chair with his hand on his sword for an emergency draw. Blue flared on the tips of the man's fingers and it took a little effort for Fushimi to focus on the man's face instead of his hands.

“Fushimi-san!” Akiyama let his sword hang by his side, the Blue disappearing. “You're back! Sorry, we were-”

“Sir! Sorry-” Benzai had picked himself up from the ground, but was still half-tangled in the blankets.

“Status of the U-rank members and JUNGLE servers?” Fushimi left the door open as he stood near them. He took a look at the chairs in the conference room and decided against sitting in them. They looked a little too plush at the moment for his leg injury.

“We are still compiling the handles and names based on our questioning of Hirasaka Douhan. The captain has requested she'd be released to search for the J-rank members. We do not have a status update on them,” Akiyama pulled out his PDA and his fingers flew over the touchscreen. Fushimi felt his own PDA vibrate and ping with the reports sent his way. “Enomoto has been monitoring JUNGLE's app and saw an increase in users deleting the app the day that the Green Clan fell. Most of them are the low level rank members, but some have left messages stating that they got boosts in power. We think these are members who suddenly became Strains when the Slate's power was unlocked. We have an updating list on suspects we have identified through their handles, IP addresses and account information.”

“We're still sorting out the N, G and L ranked members and messages on forums. Some have openly professed that they are going to spend the points to use both their apparent newfound Strain powers and whatever they have of the Green Clan abilities,” Benzai took over the report. “There's currently five active incidents. Two are in HOMRA's backyard, which they have kindly asked us not to interfere, one is being dealt with by local police and the other two we have dispatched Kamo and Goto to one while Fuse and Domyoji have been dispatched to the other,” Benzai finally extracted himself from the burrito-blanket he had wrapped himself in.

“Who is running point at the site?”

“Enomoto and Hidaka,” Akiyama replied, “we're about to spell them for another twelve hours in about...four or so hours. Hopefully when we're done, the other two teams will have returned and spell us a few. We've been running for the last forty-eight hours.”

“Captain's currently putting together a plan for all of these new Strains we're discovering and from the many incident reports that are coming in. However, we also have standing orders to report to Research each time we're done with a shift,” Benzai sighed before falling silent once more. Fushimi knew the older man tended to be more quiet, observant and hesitant to voice his opinions. But his body language readily indicated he was worried about what Research's analysis would be saying.

It stood to reason everyone at Sceptre 4 was worried.

“Afraid to lose your powers?” Fushimi arched an eyebrow at them.

“N-No,” Akiyama frowned. “I haven't felt any different since the destruction of the Slate.”

Fushimi only shrugged before turning and walking slowly out. That certainly answered the most pressing question he had regarding Sceptre 4's Special Police Force. Currently there seemed to be no indication that the lack of a King or the lack of a Slate was making those lose their powers. It was good – which mean that they could still operate at an efficiency that did not require additional planning. It was bad because the Strains were also operating in such a manner.

Maybe he would have to stop by Intelligence Division to see if that particular gas canister could be modified some more.


	4. Chapter 4

By his PDA estimates, it took him ten minutes to walk down the grand stair case that led to the lobby of Sceptre 4. From there, he decided to take the elevator down to Intelligence Division's rooms. The building was old enough that the stairs that led to the basement levels were very narrow and unevenly steep. It led to an old bomb shelter built in the heyday of World War II.

It was practical for the Intelligence Division. The basement levels were one of the more quieter and less trafficked sections of the building. Visiting guests and dignitaries wanted to see opulence. The basement levels were retrofitted with RFID shielding among other things.

Fushimi entered to see a few of the analysts hard at work, heads bent, the blue glow of the computer monitors lighting their faces. The uneven tap of the crutches and his boots hitting the floor as he walked in did not even bring them out of their trance-like state. He allowed himself a small smile in silent appreciation – here were actual people who focused on the mission at hand.

A door to what looked like a small conference room opened up and several people streamed out. Most scurried back to their desks, but more than one – dressed in lab coats – streamed past him and headed towards the stairs or waited for the elevators. Members of the Research Division judging by the badges on their labcoats.

Most of Sceptre 4's uniforms was pretty standard – the Special Police Division being the only one wearing unique custom versions since they were a front-line first-response team. Each division was identified internally by badges – or in the case of a majority of Research Division's personnel – their lab coats.

“Ah! Fushimi-san! Welcome back,” Sakimoto Miyuki emerged from the conference room and held up a hand in greeting. Fushimi did not bother to return the greeting, but merely nodded at the senior analyst. “If you will, both Sakura-san and I have some information for you.”

This time, Fushimi's nod was a bit more decisive. That was the Sakimoto Miyuki he knew. He followed Sakimoto to his desk which was situated near the conference room. Across from him, Sawano Sakura had a large pair of headphones on, her lips pursed in deep concentration. Miyuki tapped her on her shoulder as he passed by and she jumped several inches from her seat before throwing her headphones off.

“S-Sir!” Sakura stuttered, noticing his presence. Fushimi rolled his eyes, as she she turned to pull a few manila folders from a rather large pile on the corner of her desk. The pile looked rather precarious, but it seemed to be held in place by the fact that one side was leaning against a buttressing wall.

“This is for you sir! I've been decoding some odd transmissions that have been flying all over the JUNGLE servers. Here is the preliminary batch. Please make use of it!” She bowed her head slightly as she handed him the folder with both hands.

“What do they say?” Fushimi accepted the folder. He flipped through it, scanning and reading bits and pieces. The original coding was still in place and underneath it, Sakura's scribbles and analysis. Some of the words bled into the margins.

“I am currently finding confirmation, but there was talk of hording points to use for the JUNGLE server apps. Then someone was asking for donations for a large amount to take care of a 'problem.' I traced the IP address to one of the warehouses. The Captain was copied on this report and I believe he sent a team to it this morning.”

Fushimi nodded before he turned to Miyuki who dug around his desk and produced a flash drive. “Current up to date analysis on U-rank members. I've marked ones that may be considered threats based on their previous chat room history. Some are using IP maskers, so their location may not be known. The rest of the team are looking into the N-rankers and below-”

“Don't bother with the L and E-level members. Those are small fry and if the transmissions that Sawano produced here match up, then there may be potential of the higher rank members trying to 'steal' the points of lower ranked members. Do a financial analysis of the N-rank members. Some could be bribed to give points – especially those with big bank accounts. We can trace the money trail from there. Enomoto involved in that aspect?” Fushimi asked.

“Yes sir. He's currently deployed.”

“Good, keep sending him that information. Who is focused on the rogue Strain problems?”

“It's currently shared between Yamaguchi, Seriyu and the Research Division. We just came out of a meeting with them. They're studying power levels and drainage. The Captain's asked that such information be given to Research. He has asked us to focus on JUNGLE.”

Fushimi did not bother to thank the two, but instead nodded once as he pocketed the drive and tucked the folder under his arm. “Sawano, open the canister project up again. Send it to Research and have them come up with something that can suppress higher power levels or longevity. Ideally both, but we'll take either. Priority – Royal Blue.”

Dead silence suddenly fell in the Intelligence Division. Even the typing stopped as everyone in the basement office stared at him. He met their surprised and shocked looks with a cold gaze before clicking his tongue. That seemed to snap the analysts out of their funk and their typing started slowly back up as some put their headphones back on, while others tried to re-read their reports. But it was clear that all were still rather distracted by what he had ordered.

A Royal Blue was almost never issued unless it was to do with the Yuishiki System. That type of Royal Blue usually meant people's civil rights were suspended for whatever duration – but a Royal Blue issued inter-departmentally meant it was top level priority. And Royal Blues were rarely issued by any of the other commanding officers – normally only by the Captain. Fushimi had only issued one Royal Blue inter-departmentally once and it was more of a formality to let Intelligence know that they had permission to utilize the Yuishiki System to conduct a search for a Beta-class level Strain.

Fushimi felt the furtive glances shoot his way as he walked to the elevator and took it back up. This Royal Blue command was completely different and even he knew it – it was for the creation of a weapon that was going to be used against Strains. The first of its kind.

The paperwork was going to be a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head-canon regarding Fushimi and Intel Division - he used to be one of them, but since moving to Special Police Force - doesn't quite oversee them, but instead, sees them as equals. The nominal leadership is split between Sakura and Miyuki, but each "section" over sees their own assignments. It's only the distribution of said assignments that leadership comes into play.
> 
> Intel Division though, tends to defer to him since he is third-in-command and also Special Police Force. And they like him...a lot. ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

_Ping!_

Munakata was rather impressed. That was the fifth ping in the last four hours. However, it did not distract him from the flow of his kata. He kept himself centered on his form, flowing through the motions with quick swift hands and shuffling of his feet. Close quarter combat was something he rarely engaged in, if at all, when he was a King with the command of the aura of Blue. His swordsmanship was his greatest weapon, but he still went through the forms he had been taught by his Shihan long ago. Combined with the kendo he practiced almost daily when there was no situation that required his presence, it helped center himself from time to time.

Another quick ping followed the fifth one made him silently raise and eyebrow as he came out of the last motions and finished in a lunging stance. His breath was coming in short quick gasps, but was rapidly slowing down to its normal levels. He had been engaged in his forms for the last hour and a half. Reports from the Special Police Force warranted alerts on his PDA unless it was accompanied by a special set of coding to override it – which only certain heads of the other departments knew.

Akiyama and Benzai had already submitted their reports eleven hours ago and were set to go on shift to relieve Enomoto and Hidaka if they did not leave already. The two active sites led by his other Clansmen were still active, but since they did not ping with any alerts, it meant that the situation was slowly being contained. The subsequent reports would be made roughly an hour after the teams returned to base. Awashima was still at the island high school so that left one other Blue Clansmen on base – Fushimi.

Munakata sighed quietly as he straightened his stance. He took a moment, closing his eyes to re-center himself before opening them and bowed to the names of the instructors of old and left the mats.

Four hours in and still writing reports. He supposed he would have to somewhat remedy his third-in-command's habit of staying still for long periods of time. It was common knowledge given by the medics time and time again that any type of injury, once it was to a certain point in the healing process, needed exercise to ensure that there was no lingering weakness.

And that was not counting the eventual physical exam Fushimi would have to pass before being reinstated to active status within the Special Police Force.

Another ping on his PDA made a soft snort issue from Munakata's mouth as he picked up his PDA and slipped it onto the belt of his gi. Three in quick succession – more than likely the hazard pay form, expense and overtime report, and appending incident reports.

He quickly showered and changed back into his uniform, heading from the practice grounds back to the office. Perhaps a quick walk to the cafeteria would be in order. At least to get his loyal officer out of the office and moving about. Also, probably to avoid the continued almost non-stop deluge of well-wishers that stopped by to welcome him back. Munakata suspected Fushimi was not aware of his own popularity within Sceptre 4 – not really caring what others thought nor of his own reputation.

He could imagine the expressive sour-faced look followed by the tongue clicking habit – like his withering looks – had a rather interesting language of its own. The tongue clicking was more used to express Fushimi's own comfort in any situation, or to at least give the impression that he really did not care. Sometimes it was used out of annoyance, but Munakata was well-versed in the way his third-in-command used the noise in such a manner. It was like his own habit of adjusting his glasses.

Each man or woman had their own tics. Though he would thoroughly discount Awashima's hideous like for anko as a phenomena that not even he could figure out. The fact that it baffled HOMRA's second was just icing on the cake.

Munakata's walk back to the office took him across the campus, his eyes not quite scanning the horizon, but rather the familiar surroundings. It was only the blot of red in the corner of his eyes that drew him to a stop as he looked towards the main gates. Curiosity prickled him and a furtive smile appeared on his lips as he saw the small, familiar form of the Third and Red King Kushina Anna standing by the large black wrought-iron gates. There was something in her hand and she looked like she was talking with the guard. Munakata immediately picked out the red-haired beanie-covered form of HOMRA's vanguard trying to hide behind one of the stone walls.

Well...this was interesting.

Perhaps a visit from HOMRA's vanguard would be equally soothing to his third-in-command. The fact that he had spotted Yata Misaki in the bearcat hours after the Slate had been destroyed confirmed his decision to tell him about Fushimi's mission as the correct course of action. And he suspected the vanguard had also taken his not-so-subtle advice to visit his friend while he was on his sick bed.

Munakata made his decision. It would be easier than waiting for the security guard to notify his superior who would then go through the procedures to ultimately make its way to him. He turned and started to walk to the gates.

Anna noticed his approach as she straightened and a small smile appeared on her elfin face as she looked beyond the guard. Yatagarasu twitched and tried to hide himself deeper in the shadows of the wall next to the wrought-iron gates. The guard seemed to notice their attention was off of her as she turned. She immediately straightened, saluting at his approach.

“Captain!”

He nodded a greeting towards the guard. “Please let them in. They are guests.”

“Sir!” she immediately complied, tapping the code on her PDA to unlock the gate and pulled it open.

“Third and Red King Kushina Anna. Vanguard Yata Misaki, what can we do for you?” He gestured for them to follow, keeping his stride even as Anna caught up to him, holding what looked like a wrapped bento box. To Munakata's amusement, HOMRA's vanguard looked rather uncomfortable as he followed behind them. His hands were stuck deep into his pockets and he was slowly rolling his skateboard after them. However, his eyes were darting this way and that – his first time at Sceptre 4.

“I wished to talk with you. Our last conversation was not finished,” Anna replied and Munakata acknowledged her wordplay with a small nod.

“Of course. I was about to take some lunch, would you care to join?” He gestured towards the direction of the on-campus cafeteria.

“Thank you,” Anna replied. She turned her head a little behind her. “Misaki.”

Munakata was not surprised as she handed over the bento box to the slightly startled vanguard. The reason for their visit was more than likely for the vanguard to visit his friend. Apparently, Anna deftly provided the excuse.

“Up the grand stairs in the main building. Second door on your right after the elevators,” he provided helpfully with a rueful smile, only to receive a splutter of noise from Yata Misaki before he turned on his skateboard and quickly skated away from them.

Anna smiled, a wistful edge to it. They walked in silence for a few minutes before she spoke up.

“The Strains have been dealt with. They've been remanded into police custody. One was a former N-rank JUNGLE user who combined his powers with his newly discovered ones.”

“Oh?”

Anna nodded, falling silent for a few seconds before she looked towards the distance. Her dark eyes were serious, evaluating, the previous wistful smile gone. “I have lost my powers as the Third and Red King, but before I was a King, I was a Strain, taken in by HOMRA. It still resides in me. The warm red.”

Anna looked at him. Her dark eyes seemed to hold a little too much knowledge. “I do not feel the loss as keenly as you do. In fact, I welcomed the loss.”

Munakata twitched a little, trying to contain his surprise at how close Anna was hitting the mark. He knew of those powers. However, he did not know how much insight they gave her until now. She had been under the intense protection of the previous Red King, Suoh Mikoto. Even her formal database entry was sparse – until just the past two months since the formation of the Coffee Table Alliance.

What he had learned about her her powers since then... Munakata silently berated himself. He should not be so surprised. Her unusual psychometry powers were even beyond her control. He could tell even that much. But even that much insight into a person...

The silence stretched between them for several more steps.

“Do you lament the loss of powers or the loss of opportunity to end your life on your own terms as Mikoto had chosen?”

“Cannot it not be both?” he countered quietly. They had completely bypassed the cafeteria and instead, found themselves standing under the shade of a large maple tree. Munakata was aware of the other Sceptre 4 members heading to and fro, more than likely whispering at their presence, but keeping a good distance away. It was certainly _not_ every day that one saw the Blue and Red Kings talking with each other.

Anna shook her head slightly. “You've made peace with the loss of power when you willingly confronted the Grey King knowing it would end with a Damocles Down.”

“Your insight is surprising.”

“Not surprising.”

“Refreshing then,” Munakata admitted. “And perhaps as blunt as an observation that Suoh would have made once before.”

That made the silver-white haired young lady smile a little. “I had a good teacher.”

Another stretch of peaceful silence fell between them.

“You are not like Mikoto,” she continued, echoing the same words that she had said to him before he had gone to confront the Green Clan at their base.

“Oh?”

“Mikoto had no regrets, save one. You, have many.”

Munakata raised an eyebrow as he stared down at her. She met his gaze with unblinking eyes. She would not say more. It was up to him to puzzle out what she was saying. He turned away from her, his gaze stretching across the peaceful campus of Sceptre 4. What did he truly regret that made her state it was 'many'?

Certainly not the loss of family.

His niece and nephew had their mother and father. His older brother would miss him, but there was no regret there – they had come to terms when he told them he was in charge of a department in the Tokyo Affairs Bureau. Though they were ignorant of what the bureau's affairs was, he knew that they did not press his occasional visit with healing injuries or on the rare occasion that he appeared in the news. They accepted, like many of the government's more mundane-sounding bureau names, that he dealt with some secretive things – all in the name of protecting their freedoms and liberties as citizens of Japan.

Did he regret leaving his men behind?

No, except for Fushimi. But even if he did, he had arranged it so that Fushimi would have survived the mission given to him. He supposed his only regret – even if he did die of his Damocles Down – he would not have been able to continue to nurture the young man he considered like a son. But, he had reasoned to himself, that every parent was destined to die and their offspring would be their legacy.

Yet...

Did he regret not being able to see a world post-Slate?

No, but he had said that he stood for order – and in a world with the Slate, he considered that it would have to be regulated, that order came first. But with the Slate's destruction, a new order had to be established...

Because if it was not, then hundreds, thousands and millions of innocent lives would be in danger. With the Slate's awakening, they were already in danger. With the Slate's destruction, they would be in even more danger. Unless an order could be established. But Sceptre 4 would be able to do that...without his presence?

Munakata frowned inwardly.

Yes. He _wanted_ to see a world post-Slate.

For all of the reasons he had stated 'no.'

He wanted to _be_ the Fourth and Blue King and ensuring that Sceptre 4 kept order. That it was _his_ Sceptre 4. That _he_ was at the forefront – helping, keeping chaos at bay. That it was his team: Awashima, Fushimi, Akiyama, Benzai, Domyoji, Kamo, Fuse, Goto, Enomoto, Hidaka and the others. That they were all there – in step, because their cause was pure. That they would advance with the sword – together.

That in a way, his answer to if he would regret leaving his men behind was a resounding 'yes.' That his answer if he would regret leaving his older brother, niece and nephew behind would be a resounding 'yes.'

Because...

He wanted to live.

Because Suoh Mikoto also wanted to live, but he could not without Totsuka Tatara next to him. Because it was 12 days after the heart of HOMRA, the one that was the 'animal tamer' died, that the animal could not live without its other half. The Third and Red King could not live without his Clansman. Sceptre 4 had no equivalent, but rather it was the spark that drove them all.

Because his Blue clansmen could not live without him. They would _survive_ if he died, but they would not live. The best they could hope for, going through the motions, keeping order day-by-day, would be to survive. But once there was a new Blue King, they would not live. Exile was probably the best option they would have – if the new Blue King was kind enough.

Most Blue Kings were not.

Habari Jin was a practical, but ruthless man when it came to his predecessor's clansmen. Munakata knew from the memory given to him when he took on the powers of Blue, what happened to the previous clansmen when Habari Jin became the Blue King. It was like a feudal lord taking over another's territory. Some were quietly made to disappear. Others were silenced. Some even rebelled and were brutally, publicly killed. The lucky ones were given a pension and early retirement. Each Blue King had their own version of order. And some times, that order meant ensuring that the previous clansmen were taken care of – in any way possible.

Munakata knew he was the first Blue King to offer sinecure or continued employment in various Divisions except for the Special Police Force. His re-organization of Sceptre 4 was no different than previous Blue Kings' actions. Except, he tried to take in those who served Habari Jin. A majority of them survived _and_ lived. Only two, so far, chose the route of rebelling and were subsequently listed as rogue Strains and taken care of.

He snorted quietly as he looked at Anna. “I regret not being able to protect my clansmen,” he said.

“And this is what separates HOMRA from Sceptre 4,” Anna replied, looking up at him. She blinked her dark eyes once. “We represent Family. We embrace those left behind by the previous King.”

“Even if some are troublemakers.” A previous memory given to him by the Slate showed a clash between a Red and Blue King a couple of generations removed from the Habari Jin and Kagutsu Genji-era showed exactly that. Munakata suspected Anna shared a similar one, but from the Red King's point of view. However, there was nothing to state that Suoh Mikoto had adopted Kagutsu Genji's clansmen when he died from his Damocles Down. But then again, the incident report written in the aftermath stated that perhaps all of the Red Clan had died in the explosion along with all of CATHEDRAL.

He sighed quietly, adjusting his glasses. “Perhaps we do not have to worry about our clansmen as much now.”

Anna nodded once. Another amicable silence fell between them for a few minutes.

She broke the silence by shifting her dress. “I must also inform you that one of our lower level clansmen, Hayabashi Akito seemingly lost all of his powers during one of the raids today.” She reached into the pockets of her dress and pulled out a small red orb. “I have confirmed he does not have the warm red anymore, nor was it exhausted.” The red orb disappeared back into the pocket.

“Thank you, for the information,” Munakata replied. He would have to append Research Division's findings – but not at the moment, not when morale was so delicate and there were too many unknowns.

Anna merely nodded again. The conversation was at its natural end and Munakata gestured for them to walk back. She inclined her head once and followed. However, he took them towards the main building instead.

They entered and the reaction from the personnel that were present was immediate. All stood rooted to the spot, shocked to see both the Red and Blue King walking together like equals. As they ascended the grand stair case up to the office levels of the building, more personnel stopped and stared. A pointed look from Munakata sent them scurrying back to work.

He stopped by the second door on the right after the elevators. “If you would, please excuse me. I must be returning to work,” he bowed slightly towards Anna. The sounds of a rather loud almost one-sided conversation floated through the closed doors. It seemed Yata Misaki was as boisterous as he was on the battlefield. But the tone was somewhat civil and Munakata supposed Fushimi was holding a more quieter pleasant one with his friend. “Do you need someone to show you out?”

“No thank you Reisi,” Anna replied. “I hope we meet again.”

“As you wish,” he replied. He nodded his head once in farewell before turning and heading down the hall to his own office. He entered and closed the door behind him, leaning against it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Both Red Kings were right...

As Munakata opened his eyes once more, he knew he needed to banish all thoughts and feelings about his loss. His clan needed him, now more than ever. He needed to be their King, their Captain.

* * *

The three successive pings were Fushimi's hazard pay form, expense and overtime report, and appending incident reports. Munakata found it quite amusing that the expense report included a listing for several throwing knives, some of various length, others of styles and make. He suppose he would have to send an email to the supplies department to order several more quantities of knives – more than likely tomorrow if he knew his favorite officer. The knives that were in the armory were probably already gone.

Nonetheless, he approved the expense for the knives Fushimi requested. It was the least he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's probably more to Munakata's take over of Sceptre 4, but I only know the basics - something involving the Minato twins who were loyal to Habari Jin and that Munakata offered previous Blue Clansmen sinecure. I kind of made up some of the other things (or if they're correct based on the actual LSW or Side: Blue original material instead of the anime version which is what I'm basing it off on - Yay!).


End file.
